


Crowley tempts

by Santillatron



Series: Lead us both into temptation [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is a bastard but Crowley loves it, Aziraphale loves eating, Crowley forgets he's a snake, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Mild Smut, Temptation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 21:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20955497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Santillatron/pseuds/Santillatron
Summary: Crowley is annoyed that Aziraphale managed to trick him, and now he wants to get his own back. He thinks he has the perfect plan, but none of Crowley's schemes go completely to plan...





	1. Aziraphale

**Author's Note:**

> Well it was only fair to let him have a go. And yes I actually did some research for this one. 
> 
> You don't need to have read the first one for this to make sense.

Aziraphale had been busy at the bookshop when he got the call. He was in the middle of opening a new box of mystery books when the telephone rang. He ignored it. These boxes were far too exciting to succumb to distraction. A random box of books, bought at auction, with only a brief history of the owner and basic details about the contents. This one had seemed particularly interesting, so now he was slowly pulling out dusty old books, in the hope that he might find something extra special. 

The phone rang again. He didn’t have an answering machine so no message could be left. If the caller really wanted to talk to him then they had to keep ringing until he answered. 

Aziraphale huffed in irritation and put down the books he was holding. He marched over to the telephone and picked it up. 

“Hello?” He trilled into the receiver, as politely as he could manage.

“Aziraphale! What’s the sodding point in a telephone if you don’t answer it!”

“Oh it’s you Crowley. I was just opening a new auction box. What can I do for you?” The Angel responded curtly. He really did want to get back to that box...

“Come. Er... to mine. For dinner. Tonight. If you want?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. Crowley was flustered, which meant he was up to something. 

“Well alright, seeing as you asked so eloquently.” He teased. Aziraphale hoped Crowley hadn’t decided to take up cooking. He didn’t really eat, so was starting with quite a disadvantage. 

Aziraphale arrived at Crowley’s flat, with some trepidation. He knocked on the door and it opened for him. 

“Hello?” He called in. 

“Angel!” Came the reply from inside. “Come in! I’m in here.”

Aziraphale walked slowly in, and the door shut behind him. He’d only been to Crowley’s flat a few times, but it was a simple layout so he soon found himself looking at a most wonderful sight. The lounge had a huge corner sofa, two sides of a square that the coffee table completed. Crowley was standing in the apex next to a coffee table loaded with all manner of edible delights. There was sushi, tapas, afternoon tea, canapés, all sorts of finger food, and a whole section of desserts. None of it looked homemade fortunately. Aziraphale’s mouth began to water with anticipation. Crowley was standing next to it, looking somewhat nervous. As it was just the two of them he had left his sunglasses off so Aziraphale could see his glorious, golden, expressive eyes, fixed on the Angel.

“Oysters?” He queried. “Not really the right time of year…”

Crowley quickly waved a hand without taking his nervous gaze from the Angel, and the offending platter vanished. 

“I realised we spend a lot of time at yours, so it was about time for me to return the favour. It’s not as cosy as your bookshop, and as I don’t actually have a dining table I thought we- well you, could eat picnic style in here, but I don't know what people eat at picnics, and I didn’t know what you would want so I just… got… everything…?” he trailed off looking lost and hopeful. 

“It looks wonderful dear boy.” Aziraphale said in ernest, and sat down in the centre of one straight section of the sofa. “Where should I start?”

“Wherever you like.” Crowley said, insinuating himself into the corner of the sofa, facing the ravenous Angel. The way the Demon moved had Aziraphale briefly contemplating skipping the first course altogether, but it would have been rude to ignore the carefully thought out banquet in front of him when Crowley had clearly put so much effort into it. He was aware of the Demon watching him expectantly from his corner.

So Aziraphale began to feast, and the pair settled into their usual chatter. Crowley produced a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. Aziraphale had procured a fork (and chopsticks for the sushi) which he wasted no time in putting to good use. All in all it was shaping up to be a very pleasant evening. 

“Well you know that book I’ve been trying to track down? The bible misprint? I may have found one! You’ll like it,” Aziraphale said, waving his loaded fork towards the Demon lounging next to him. “It’s the one with... with... uh...” the Angel faltered as Crowley darted forward and took the food off the fork. The sight of the Demon with his mouth wrapped around Aziraphale’s implement had caused him to completely lose his train of thought, and replaced it with an entirely new one. 

“You were saying Angel?” Crowley said lazily as he sat back and chewed. 

Was that a smirk? “What? Oh yes, it’s a King James Bible. The Unrighteous Bible. You know, the one where it says the unrighteous shall inherit the kingdom of God?” Aziraphale wondered if he could get Crowley to take another morsel from his fork. He’d found the way Crowley’s mouth moved when he chewed rather delightful. 

“Is that the one where Romans 6:13 reads ‘Neither yield ye your members as instruments of righteousness into sin’?” Crowley asked with a sly grin. 

“Yes! But how...? Oooooh. Oh I should have known, you rascal! That caused quite a fuss that one.”

Aziraphale realised he rather liked the way Crowley was grinning mischievously at him. He turned to the table, and selected the next mouthful. 

“The Adulterous Bible was more fun.” Crowley bragged. “Although I do believe I am not the only one who had a penchant for editing biblical texts?” He said pointedly. “How many verses was it you added to that copy of Genesis?”

“It was only three, and at least they were true!” He waved his fork at his adversary again. “I suppose I’ll have to have to set aside a shelf in the bookshop for all your literary misdem... misdeme... misdemeeeanours…” He managed eventually. Crowley had leant forward again and delicately slid his teeth along the fork to drag the food into his mouth. Anyone else would have had a stern talking to from the Angel, but the way the Demon lounged back into the sofa, eyes twinkling at Aziraphale whilst he manipulated the food around his mouth with his tongue was making it very hard for the Angel to do anything other than stare. Angels definitely do not leer. Demons, however, most definitely do, and this one most definitely was. It was all rather distracting. 

This continued on for a while, Aziraphale choosing something, and Crowley sporadically pinching it from the Angel’s fork, with varying degrees of eye contact. Aziraphale thought it was scandalous, and was having trouble keeping up with the conversation. 

“If you intend to catalogue all my efforts in print then you are going to need more than one shelf.” Crowley said confidently. “And possibly a lockable cabinet. Some of them are still banned.”

“Banned?!” Aziraphale scoffed as he loaded up a scone (jam, then cream of course). “Which ones?” 

“Well the most famous was Lady Chatterley’s Lover.”

“That was YOU?!” Aziraphale exclaimed. “No wonder I was having such a hard time keeping it censored.” He was impressed. He’d had to read the full manuscript, for research purposes of course, and it had meant he’d had to avoid Crowley for a year after that… education.

“Took me nearly 30 years to get it published in its entirety thanks to your lot. Good job I managed to get hired as a court official to look after the jury eh?” Crowley winked (an act in itself that should be banned as a matter of public decency as far as Aziraphale was concerned) and then took a large bite out of the hovering scone. Aziraphale felt Crowley’s lips brush his fingers, sending sparks dancing up his arm, and a cold shiver down his spine. He could do nothing but watch as the Demon responsible for the original temptation, slowly licked the cream off his lips, his face apparently lit up with pleasure at the taste. Crowley’s whole body was commanding ‘come hither’. Aziraphale felt as if the air between them was filled with electricity, and yet stifling at the same time. He met Crowley’s gaze, and realised the wily old serpent’s pupils were blown to their full dilation. The Demon was uncharacteristically still, yet his whole body seemed to be radiating an intensity that Aziraphale was having to work very hard at ignoring. 

Then Aziraphale cottoned on to the game, and decided to change the rules. 

Aziraphale put his scone down on his plate and removed his coat. He rolled up his sleeves and untied his bow tie and let it hang down either side of his neck. He saw Crowley’s lips part ever so slightly, and his hands grip the sofa tight, so he leaned over and with one very gentle finger, wiped the cream that his fiery haired adversary had missed on his cheek. But before he could withdraw his hand, Crowley turned his mouth and lightly licked the cream from Aziraphale’s finger. 

Aziraphale felt his calm exterior crack as the sound escaped his throat. Crowley was most definitely not playing fair, but Aziraphale realised he should have expected that from a Demon.

“We need more wine!” He squeaked, jumping up and dashing off. This was the first time Crowley had truly tempted him, and he had no idea what to do with himself. Up to this point, Aziraphale had always been the one to set the pace. But now he wanted nothing more than to.. wait, why was he out here? What did he have to be afraid of? If he wanted a slice of scandalous Demon, then he would jolly well have his cake and, well, yes that too. He strode back to where he had left off. 

“I, uh, couldn’t find...” he stopped. 

Crowley had fallen asleep. Body still sprawled provocatively, head lolled back, mouth open wide. A snore escaped, and Aziraphale had to stifle a laugh.

Oh Crowley. Master of temptation, whose clever plans inevitably came back to inconvenience him at some point. And part serpent. A serpent who had probably just had the most food he’d ever had in one sitting, and had inevitably done what snakes do after a big meal, and fallen asleep. 

Aziraphale sighed affectionately, and sat down on the sofa. He briefly contemplated waking him up, but he’d probably be cranky, so the Angel set about the rest of the food while the Demon slept it off. They had time.


	2. Crowley

Ever since Aziraphale tricked him in the roof garden, Crowley had been plotting a way to redeem his standing as resident master of temptation. Inspiration came in form of the Angel’s expression at Crowley finally relenting and trying a morsel of something that Aziraphale had been raving about. The slightly parted lips, the intense gaze at his mouth, the plan pretty much created itself in that moment. 

If only he’d thought it through a bit more…

He recalled the Angel expressing an interest in picnics, so a few days later, he spent several hours scouring London for the best in small-plate cuisine. He only stopped briefly to make the actual call that would set his plan in motion. 

But the bastard Angel wasn’t picking up. Typical. He rang again. 

“Hello?” Came an overly polite answer. Ah bugger, thought Crowley, he needed Aziraphale in a good mood for later and interrupting something wasn’t a good start. 

“Aziraphale! What’s the sodding point in a telephone if you don’t answer it!” Well he was irritated, and had been slightly on edge as he always was if the Angel didn’t pick up straight away. 

“Oh it’s you Crowley. I was just opening a new auction box. What can I do for you?” Ah he’d got lost in books again. Crowley could almost see the delighted expression the Angel would have been wearing as he pulled each mystery book out. He hoped to see that delighted face again before the end of the day, amongst other expressions… 

“Come.” Shit, too forward. “Er... to mine. For dinner. Tonight. If you want?” PLEASEsayyespleasesayyespleasesayyes…

“Well alright, seeing as you asked so eloquently.” Phew. Crowley knew he could be eloquent, he could be charming, he could even be a gentleman when it was required. He just couldn’t seem to do it around Aziraphale. 

Evening came, and sure enough Crowley heard the knock at the door. The door had been given strict instructions as to who it was permitted to open to, and that a certain Angel was to be allowed access AT ALL TIMES, so it opened obligingly. 

“Hello?” Came a slightly nervous call. 

“Angel!” Crowley shouted, slightly louder than was necessary “Come in! I’m in here.”

He shoved the last few things in place, and turned to meet his guest just in time to see Aziraphale wander into the room and see the table. 

And there it was. That expression of pure rapture that lit Crowley up inside. He just about managed to not melt on the spot when Aziraphale’s brow furrowed slightly. 

“Oysters?” The Angel queried. “Not really the right time of year…”

Shitshitshit. Crowley quickly waved a hand without taking his eyes off the Angel, and the offending platter vanished. The joyful expression reinstated itself. 

“I realised we spend a lot of time at yours,” Crowley said nervously. He could feel his body humming with the excitement at the game ahead. ”so it was about time for me to return the favour. It’s not as cosy as your bookshop, and as I don’t actually have a dining table I thought we- well you, could eat picnic style in here, but I don't know what people eat at picnics, and I didn’t know what you would want so I just… got… everything…?” he trailed off looking as lost and hopeful as he could, knowing Aziraphale would now feel morally obliged to sit and eat without suspecting a thing. Demon, remember? And besides, he would never tempt Aziraphale to do something he didn’t already want to do. 

“It looks wonderful dear boy.” Aziraphale said in earnest, and sat down on the sofa. “Where should I start?”

Now there was a question that deserved an honest answer. “Wherever you like.” Crowley said, sliding down into the corner facing his Angel, but thinking wholly un-angelic thoughts about where exactly he would like Aziraphale to start, that had nothing to do with the table in front of them. He was sitting where he could watch Aziraphale, but the Angel had to turn to look at him. It gave him an advantage and he knew it. He noticed the way the Angel’s eyes had lingered on him seating himself slightly longer than normal when faced with his favourite foods. 

But not yet, the game wouldn’t be over yet. He uncorked a bottle of wine, pouring a glass for them both, and they settled down to their usual light chat as the Angel put his fork (and, oh bless him, he’d produced chopsticks for the sushi) to good use. Crowley just watched, waiting for his moment to strike. 

“Well you know that book I’ve been trying to track down? The bible misprint?” The Angel said “I may have found one! You’ll like it,” Crowley’s serpentine eyes latched on to the movement of the loaded fork being waved his way. “It’s the one with... with... uh...” the Angel faltered as Crowley darted forward and took the food off the fork.

“You were saying Angel?” Crowley said lazily as he chewed. He could see the Angel watching his mouth as his brain tried to get back on track. It felt good to be the one with the power for once, and yet this was a dangerous game as he had no way of knowing if it would end the way he hoped, or if the Angel would look unfavourably on the Demon using his wiles on him for once. But this was where Crowley lived, always on the knife edge waiting to see which way he could make it tip. He smirked at the derailed Angel. They were on Crowley’s home turf now, and he was going to make the most of it. 

“What? Oh yes, it’s a King James Bible. The Unrighteous Bible. You know, the one where it says the unrighteous shall inherit the kingdom of God?” Crowley knew this Bible very well. He also knew that Aziraphale still hadn’t taken his eyes off Crowley chewing, and would undoubtedly be trying to think of ways of getting the Demon to repeat his action. 

“Is that the one where Romans 6:13 reads ‘Neither yield ye your members as instruments of righteousness into sin’?” He asked with a sly grin, enunciating every word perfectly. He’d been proud of that one. Got a note of praise for it in fact. 

“Yes! But how...? Oooooh. Oh I should have known, you rascal! That caused quite a fuss that one.” Aziraphale’s eyes were glittering now. And was that the beginning of a blush?

“The Adulterous Bible was more fun.” Crowley bragged on, noting the Angel’s hands twitch at the suggestion of this one. “Although I do believe I am not the only one who had a penchant for editing biblical texts?” He said, raising an eyebrow mock accusingly. “How many verses was it you added to that copy of Genesis?”

“It was only three, and at least they were true!” Aziraphale spluttered. But the fork was back. “I suppose I’ll have to have to set aside a shelf in the bookshop for all your literary misdem... misdeme... misdemeeeanours…”

Oh Crowley’s plan was working excellently. They carried on back and forth, discussing all the Bible edits they had done, in between Crowley cherry picking which bit of food he would steal this time. The fork was waved his way too many times for it to be an accident, so he indulged his Angel, occasionally throwing some eye contact in for the thrill of it. Aziraphale was clearly having trouble keeping up with what was being said in favour of what wasn’t being said aloud. 

“If you intend to catalogue all my efforts in print then you are going to need more than one shelf.” Crowley said confidently. “And possibly a lockable cabinet. Some of them are still banned.”

“Banned?!” Aziraphale had picked a scone. Crowley had been waiting for this since he bought them with one aim in mind. “Which ones?” 

“Well the most famous was Lady Chatterley’s Lover.”

“That was YOU?!” Aziraphale exclaimed. “No wonder I was having such a hard time keeping it censored.” Crowley saw a familiar expression flit across his Angel’s face. Ah yes, Aziraphale had been avoiding him around that time. He was the type to have done all his homework, which would have included actually reading the book… Cowley tried to act indignant over his glee.

“Took me nearly 30 years to get it published in its entirety thanks to your lot. Good job I managed to get hired as a court official to look after the jury eh?” Crowley winked as saucily as possible for good measure, then very purposefully leant over and carefully took a large bite out of the hovering scone. He was careful to let his lips softly brush against the Angel’s fingers. It was all Crowley could do not to just throw himself at the Angel’s mouth at this point. Aziraphale’s mouth was open in shock, his lips just parted enough for Crowley to see his tongue minutely mirroring the Demon’s own as he forced himself to lick the cream from his lips slowly. His body was still for once, as all his energy was focusing on drinking in the sight of his Angel in such a state. He could see Aziraphale’s breathing had deepened and he was unable to keep the joy from his face at the Angel so openly wanting. He knew he was sitting provocatively, and he felt his pupils dilate as Aziraphale looked up into his eyes. The tension was palpable. Aziraphale was very good at resisting when he decided he wanted to, but Crowley was very, very good at helping people decide they didn’t want to. 

Suddenly Aziraphale’s face took on a more determined expression. Crowley stopped mentally undressing the Angel, and realised he was actually taking his coat off. The tables turned as Crowley watched Aziraphale calmly rolling up his sleeves, exposing the pale flesh of his forearms. Arms that Crowley had imagined being held by on so many occasions. Aziraphale knew what this sort of thing did to Crowley, and yet he was now untying his bow tie and leaving it lasciviously hanging there for all and sundry to be able to grab to use it to pull his mouth towards them… Crowley gripped the sofa tight to hold himself down. The bastard was not playing fair. 

All of a sudden Aziraphale leaned towards him, once hand outstretched, and ran a finger lightly down his cheek, evidently retrieving some cream that had missed Crowley’s tongue the first time around. The action caused Crowley to take a sharp intake of breath, but he was thoroughly lost in the Angel’s currently soft grey eyes, so just about managed to dart out his tongue to lick the cream from Aziraphale’s finger. 

The sound that came from Aziraphale’s throat was far better than any celestial harmony Crowley had ever heard. 

“We need more wine!” The conflicted Angel squeaked, abruptly jumping up and dashing off.

Crowley laid his head back on the sofa and shut his eyes with a light groan. This was far harder than he expected, and with a full stomach as well. He tried to force himself to breathe evenly, and get back in control. He felt his body relax, and relished the floaty feeling that came over him. He tried to think about what he would do when the Angel returned, but it was no use. Two types of body fighting with very conflicting instincts, and the human part lost. He was asleep in moments. 

Crowley jerked his head up with a start. FUCK. 

He’d fallen asleep. All that work, and he’d bloody well gone and sodding fallen asleep thanks to a serpentine instinct he’d completely forgotten about. He took in the scene in front of him. Aziraphale was nowhere to be seen, but he’d clearly made the most of the rest of the food and wine, and left. Ever the good one, he’d even cleared up all but the Demon’s half full wine glass which was perched all alone on the now empty table. Crowley huffed in irritation, downed the remainder of the wine and stomped off towards his bed. He rarely bothered turning lights on at night, as his night vision was perfectly adequate to navigate himself out of clothes and into bed. 

At least his bed was warm, and had that oh-so-comforting smell, which was now mixed with the smell of his Angel the must have been drifting in from the rest of the flat. 

He sprawled on his back, picturing Aziraphale rolling up his sleeves, and looking at him with such wanton hunger. 

Oh well, the night shouldn’t be a complete waste, he thought as he reached down. 

Suddenly a soft, but strong hand stroked across his body, as a voice murmured into his ear.

“You naughty Demon. Let me help you with that.”

“Ngk! You…!” Crowley startled. 

“Bastard, I know.” Aziraphale purred as he reached down. 

Crowley was going to have to think very hard about how to get Aziraphale back for this he decided. Very h-hard indee….. 

But that’s as far as he got with that train of thought.


End file.
